


Reflections

by The-Most-Evil-Wizard-Elfarado (shinigami_lupin)



Series: The Children of Iyaru [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alien Character(s), Beta Wanted, Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Major Original Character(s), Not Beta Read, POV Original Character, Pregnancy, Surrogacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami_lupin/pseuds/The-Most-Evil-Wizard-Elfarado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of character studies set within my "Life and Times of a Death Goddess" universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Starks' for they belong to Marvel and Disney (these days), so I'm just borrowing the sandbox. Athanasia (and her many identities) is my baby through-and-through.
> 
> Some of these studies are different from how this universe will proceed, since things change in my head to make room for new information as the MCU evolves - others have changed just to accommodate plot evolutions or solve problems. These are intended to be more test fics to get my feet wet for a story I will (eventually) write. Feedback is strongly encouraged, though kudos are welcome as they feed my desire to write.
> 
> I also should warn you, everything contained within is not beta read and my mistakes have been left unchecked.

(early 1970)

To the world, Dr Morana Grimston was a highly intelligent, hard, but elegant lady in her early thirties. Long straight midnight black hair would be held back in an elegant up do or at the nape of her long pale neck. Her flawless creamy moon-kissed skin contrasted starkly with any color she wore, and midnight eyes unreadable. She would be draped in rich designs of fabric and jewels, body shaped to wear most to their finest.

To her coworkers, Morana was a practical, distant, workaholic genius. Midnight hair pulled back out of the way, treated more as a nuisance than an asset. Pale skin looked near sickly in the institutional florescent lighting, highlighting the odd scar. Her clothing usually was long and shapeless, appearing more androgynous than feminine.

To the very select few who truly knew her, she was yet another person entirely. She was Athanasia, the Goddess of Souls and Gateways. She was thousands of years older and born to a civilization long forgotten by history. Her name changed with the years, like most would change clothing.

Only a privileged few among an organization named SHIELD knew of her otherworldly nature. Through her “partnership” with them, she maintained the illusion of humanity. While she worked as an engineer and scientist developing many previously unimaginable devices, many of which could easily be converted to weapons, she was also a prestigious warrior. On the battlefield, she was known for her tactical genius and fierce agile grace.

However she was also doing something almost any who knew her would never imagine.

Athanasia reclined against her sleek suede sofa, rubbing her hands against the expanding flesh of her stomach. She felt the tiny drum beat of the baby's movement against her hands, fingers tapping back in time with him. Her eyes could make out the soul contained with her belly that was now a growing baby, a soul that already felt beyond familiar, only second to her own.

Pregnancy agreed with her, she knew. Her harsh, anti-social personality was softening, the loving qualities she hid came more to the fore as the child with-in her grew. She loved him intensely already like any other mother did, perhaps more because of the psychic bond she held with him, as all her people did with their children.

This experience was one Athanasia was desperate to savor. After living thousands of years, though rather young for her people, she was slow to reproduce. She had two mortal daughters that had passed on centuries ago, though their descendants lived on. Though their passing had brought her much pain, the joy of bringing a new life into the world helped ease it. The only thing that tainted this experience was that the child could not be hers. This son was not hers to keep. She would help raise him, but he was destined for her sister, Maria and her husband.

As much as the pain lanced her heart every time she thought about giving him up, she loved her sister more. While Howard was turning her sour with his distance and his steadily increasing vice, alcohol, she could do this for Maria.

Her only hope amongst the backdrop of despair at the inevitable separation, was that he was hers right now and that possibly in the future, should he need her she would be there.

End?


End file.
